


from dust and ashes

by prismaticvoid



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), DRK Level 68 Spoilers, Gen, Missing Scene, POV Second Person, dark knight feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prismaticvoid/pseuds/prismaticvoid
Summary: You can't just leave him there.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	from dust and ashes

Gallien gives you his final request, and you have no choice but to comply. Trailing a lost boy and a dead man, all you can think of are your hazy memories of that day in Quarrymill. When you did what you could to spare a sick, maybe dying man some pain, and in the process found that even the tranquility and quiet of the Shroud had a rot deep down inside it. You’d put your skills to use the best way you could, and then you’d moved on with your life. All you could do was hope Gallien would survive long enough to see his home again, but even then you had your doubts. If even this hamlet in the woods that was ever in need of work had no place for the Ala Mhigans, where else could they go?

It’s been years since then, years since you first met Meffrid and Gallien and Gundobald and the others. There are so few left. And ahead of you, you watch helplessly as the dying wish of one of the last holdouts flickers and goes out. In the end, he’d barely made it halfway. You lean heavily on your sword for a moment, grateful that night has fallen in the Fringes and Myste cannot see you.

_You hear him sing? Beautiful, wasn’t it. He had life in him again, for a moment._

If only that life was enough to carry him back to the Reach, you think bitterly. You sling your sword back over your shoulder and try to walk confidently and not trudge when you get in range of Myste’s eyes. You don’t want him to see you falter. You don’t want to falter.

_There it is. Our aether. Take it back!_

Gritting your teeth, you swing your blade into the swirling cloud of aether and close your eyes, channeling it back into your body. It settles there, making you feel at least a little more stable. You take a deep breath and nod to Myste, indicating that you are ready to move on.

He wants to finish the trip for Houdart and Gallien. You follow, hoping if nothing else that a symbolic gesture for the fallen Ala Mhigans will calm your swirling emotions enough to return to Sidurgu and explain what has happened. His silver hair flashes when it catches the moon, leaving you a familiar flag to follow in the dark. His steps are swift and confident.

When you reach the monument, he finally explains himself, and everything falls into place. This child, with his strange patterns of speech and his plaintive voice and his oddly familiar hair, wants to undo death itself. He’ll create illusion after illusion from the memories of the living, layering them atop each other until they are indistinguishable from reality. He will fill the world with ghosts until death has no consequences. And then, maybe, you too will feel whole again. Maybe your guilt will be eased.

_Just a lost child. Doesn’t know that guilt is your strongest weapon._

The two of you part ways after he gives his little speech, him heading gods know where and you mounting your chocobo to prepare for the long journey back to Ishgard. But as you tap the reins and persuade the bird in a spiral upwards through the air, a thought settles at the forefront of your mind.

Gallien. You can’t just leave him there. You have to go back.

The cave isn’t too hard to find a second time, footprints scattered around outside and the faint glow of a fire coming from within. You know what you will find when you go inside; there is no other possibility. He is dead, and you weren’t fast enough. You’ll never be fast enough.

_You know why the boy feels the way he does. Doesn’t mean he’s right to do it._

Finally, you steel yourself and enter the cave. It’s quiet, the fire burning down unattended. Gallien is where you left him, slumped against the far wall with his head lolling to the side. It’s hardly the first corpse you’ve seen, and if you’re honest with yourself he could be in much worse shape. He died whole, unbloodied, not cut down on the battlefield or betrayed by an ally. But he was alone, and all you can hope is that Houdart’s shade gave him some comfort in his final minutes.

The floor of the cave is hard-packed dirt, too difficult to dig through and preserve him from wild animals or grave robbers, so you go back outside and find a spot near a stand of trees where the dirt gives way when you scrape with your gauntlets. You rummage through your chocobo’s saddlebag until you find a small trowel, sighing at its size but knowing it’s the best thing you have. Going back to the spot you found, you begin to dig.

It’s slow work, but the night air of the Fringes is cool enough and you are determined not to let him rot alone in the cave. You dig until your arms burn and your back aches, until finally you think the hole is deep enough to keep him safe. You wipe the trowel clean and put it back in your saddlebag. You give your chocobo a pat on the shoulder and head back into the cave, knowing you can’t put it off any longer. 

Gallien is heavy, tall and muscular from years of hard work and harder fighting. You cannot pick him up, and a twinge of guilt runs through you as you drag him outside, but you are alone and you have to do what you can. You suppose a little manhandling is hardly the worst thing he’s experienced. Finally, you are at the hole you’ve dug for him. The grave. You do your best to push him in gently, and arrange his body as comfortably as you can. You take one last look at him and then begin to push the dirt back into place. Your arms are burning and your eyes are burning too, but you have to see this through.

When the dirt is replaced, you stamp over it a few times and then scatter leaves and sticks over the top, trying to disguise its recent disturbance. But it still isn’t complete. The tree above the grave is the best you have for a marker, so grabbing a small knife from your pack, you carve (crudely, but as best you can) the mark of the Destroyer into its bark. You have no way to write his name, but this will have to do.

Turning away at last, you swing a leg over your chocobo’s back and nudge him upward again. His wings cut through the air, and cool wind fills your lungs as you leave Gallien behind. Your work, for now, is done. Your eyes still burn but you are, as ever, unable to cry.

He deserved better. They all deserved better. But all they have is you.

> _  
> Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;  
>  Thus unlamented let me die;  
>  Steal from the world, and not a stone  
>  Tell where I lie.  
>  _

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my head ever since I did the DRK 68 quest. It didn't seem right to just let him lie there and rot. (Blessedly, the 80 quest informs us that someone did come collect his body eventually, but I still wanted to write this even knowing that.)  
> Title from Oh Death by Noah Gundersen, aka The Fray Song TM  
> This is my first FFXIV fic, but there are likely more to come. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
